Total pages in book: 152
Estimated words: 155037 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 775(@200wpm)___ 620(@250wpm)___ 517(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 155037 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 775(@200wpm)___ 620(@250wpm)___ 517(@300wpm)
As always, Loki had been there. Buying her period products and reading the instructions to help her figure out what to do. Going to the lingerie shop and ignoring all the dirty looks from the people working there as he helped her find what she needed.
Still . . . as much as he’d tried to tell her that everything she was going through was normal, she’d felt ashamed.
She couldn’t be what her dad wanted.
Her body wasn’t right . . . it was gross.
She was gross.
“Isa?”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean . . . I didn’t mean to disgust you.” She attempted to take off toward the house.
But Remy wrapped an arm around her waist, drawing her back against him. The feel of his body made her want to instinctively melt into him. To feel him surround her and tuck her into him.
Keeping her safe.
Not yours, Isa.
Damn, he felt so right pressed against her.
So perfect.
But he doesn’t like what he sees. You embarrassed him.
“Not sure what is going through your head right now, Princess,” he murmured. “But I don’t like it. Don’t like you running from me. Don’t like the wobble in your voice. Or the way you’ve curved your shoulders. As though you’re ashamed.”
Shouldn’t she be?
She’d just had a nip-slip in front of him! Fuck, she’d come close to showing her nipple to the garbage truck driver. Thankfully, she’d still been hidden from the curb by trees.
“I need to go get dressed. I’m sorry.”
“Sorry? Why are you sorry?” He suddenly let her go and she expected him to give her a disappointed look and walk away.
Instead, he slipped his T-shirt over her head, covering her up.
Right. Because she was disgusting and he didn’t want to see her.
She took in a deep breath, his scent hitting her hard. It should have been awful since he’d obviously slept in his clothes all night.
But all she got was a hit of leather and a slight touch of mint.
It made her insides clench.
Don’t be drawn in by a scent. By a sexy chest and strong body.
You are not into him.
When had she turned into a liar?
“Isabelle, look at me.” His voice was cajoling, but she shook her head.
“I need to get back inside. I have to get dressed. Coffee. I need coffee too.”
Coffee made everything better. Right?
Well, one could hope anyway. Because this morning had just become a colossal clusterfuck.
“You’re not walking back into the house on bare feet.”
Well, what was he expecting her to do? Fly?
She hadn’t quite figured out her superpowers yet.
Then suddenly, she was flying. She landed against his warm chest, his arm under her ass. She was curled up into a small ball. Like a kitten.
But Remy didn’t seem to notice or care. He strode toward the house as she wrapped her arms around his neck, scared he might drop her.
“I won’t drop you, baby.”
“Are you sure you can’t read minds?”
“I wish I could . . . then I might have some idea of what is going on in your brain.”
“You don’t want in my brain,” she told him. “It’s a real mess in there. A swirling, whirling mess. Someone really should tidy up, throw out some garbage.”
“Shh,” he murmured, running his hand up and down her back soothingly as he stepped into the house and shut the front door.
“I can’t believe you saw my nipple,” she muttered. “I’m not going to be able to recover from this. I think it’s best you just leave and let me die of embarrassment.”
“Nobody is dying,” he told her sharply. “Of embarrassment or anything else.”
He let her slide down his body and she sucked in a breath as she thought she felt something against her stomach.
Something hard and truly enormous. But then he was setting her aside.
Who could blame him?
Clearly, her nipples were the things of nightmares.
“What were you thinking running out of the house dressed like that?” he asked gruffly. “Anyone could have seen you!”
Her head dropped. He was right. She hadn’t been thinking. She’d been in ‘get garbage can to the curb’ mode.
“Sorry,” she whispered, wrapping her arms around herself. “I need to get dressed.”
She needed layers of clothing to make herself feel better. To give her some protection from feeling like complete and utter shit.
Turning, she’d nearly made it to the hallway when she heard him swearing.
“Isa, wait!”
She shook her head. She had to find something to wear. Right fucking now.
“Isabelle. Please.”
Whoa.
She ran to the window and peered out.
“What are you doing?” he asked, looking at her in confusion.
“I just wanted to see if pigs were flying.”
“What?”
“Because you said please.”
Remy barely managed not to roll his eyes at her sass.
This was what he’d been expecting from her the other night.
What fucking right did he have to lecture her over what she wore to take out the fucking garbage?
Zero.
He didn’t have a leg to stand on. He wanted to have that right. To tell her that he didn’t want anyone seeing what belonged to him.